


just like paperwork but harder to read

by Cirkne



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirkne/pseuds/Cirkne
Summary: Eddie wakes up to find that Richie's not in bed.





	just like paperwork but harder to read

There are things you never really grow out of. There’s an inhaler on the desk in Eddie’s room and another one in his book bag. There’s a first aid kit under his bed. He keeps carrying tissues with him and half empty boxes of bandaids. He washes his hands twice, every time. Leaves fruit to soak in water for twenty minutes before he eats them. Richie keeps saying: _you don’t need to do that, sweetheart_ but he keeps letting him because he knows, he gets it. They were made to understand each other.

There are good days when they brush their teeth next to each other in the bathroom in their dorm building, when Richie scrapes his knee or his elbow or his palm and Eddie doesn’t freak out about needing it cleaned, when sneezes and coughs don’t send him into a panic and there are worse days. Richie asks to borrow chapstick and Eddie, clinging onto it like a lifeline, reminds him about germs and Richie says _I’ve literally had my tongue inside your mouth, Eddie_ and they both look at each other for a really long time before one of them gives or one of them yells because they’ve both been stressed and chapstick is what pushes them over the edge, finally. When Eddie kicks Richie out of his room for making a joke about his mother. 

And there are days when Eddie wakes up at three in the morning and Richie isn’t sleeping next to him, in a bed that’s never been big enough for two people. He blinks, rubs at his eyes and looks around in the dark. Stanley’s bed is empty too. He’s at Mike and Bill’s for the weekend and Richie and Eddie were supposed to have Eddie’s room to themselves except now it’s just him, alone and he’s never been good at being alone.

Eddie waits for a couple seconds and then he pushes the covers off of himself and gets out of bed. Richie’s clothes are still on the chair by Eddie’s desk which means he didn’t go back to his dorm and Eddie breathes just a little easier. 

He throws on the shirt he was wearing earlier that day and goes for the door. The door’s unlocked and Richie wouldn’t keep it unlocked unless he knew he’d be right back so maybe Eddie shouldn’t be worried, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something. Except Eddie knows Richie. He doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night so he goes, in the bunny slippers that Stan got him for his birthday last year. 

Eddie checks the bathrooms and the showers and then he washes his hands because he’s nervous and it helps, sometimes. He checks the kitchens, too. They’re empty and Eddie considers washing his hands again before he decides that that’s stupid and he walks to the last place Richie could be. The door to the shared balcony is ajar. Eddie swallows. It’s not like Richie wants _fresh air_ in the middle of the night. 

When Eddie goes in, Richie’s leaning against the wall, cigarette in his hand, his oversized batman T-shirt hanging off of one of his shoulders.

“Richie,” Eddie says and Richie turns like he didn’t hear him come in, eyes tired and his features soft in the way they never are when he’s happy.

“Hey,” he whispers, turns back to look out the window, runs his free hand down his shirt, says “Sorry,” motioning to the cigarette. He knows Eddie hates it and Eddie knows coping isn’t always healthy.

“It’s fine,” he assures him. “Got worried when you weren’t in bed.” he considers walking over to Richie but there’s smoke and the window isn’t open wide enough to make it go away as fast as Eddie would like it to so he stays standing by the door and watches Richie take another drag.

“Sorry,” he repeats but doesn’t offer an explanation. Eddie tugs at the bottom of his shirt. Waits. Then, of course, because he’s never been patient or good at silent worrying, asks:

“What’s wrong?” Richie shifts, licks his lips. “Don’t- you know. Don’t say it’s nothing because you don’t smoke unless it’s bad and you don’t wake up in the middle of the night unless it’s _really_ bad so spill.”

“Sometimes I hate how well you know me,” Richie says, closes his eyes, runs his hand down his face, breathes out.

“You don’t,” Eddie tells him. Richie smiles, if only a little bit and puts out his cigarette with half of it still there but Eddie knows him well enough to know it wasn’t his first tonight. On better days he’d give him shit for it. 

“Let’s go back to your room before we fucking freeze here and then we can do the whole talking thing, ok?” Richie asks and waits for Eddie to walk out before he follows him.

Eddie shuffles his feet in the kitchen while Richie washes his hands and then his face, wipes his wet hands on his T-shirt.

By the time they walk back to the room, Richie’s put a smile back on his face and he says:

“Did you know ducks have a corkscrew shaped penis because duck females have a maze vagina," he’s said it before. That time Eddie had said: _the males are called drakes, Richie_. This time he knows what Richie’s trying to do.

“Richie-” he starts, but.

“Female hyenas have bigger dicks than males,” Richie continues over him and he’s not looking at Eddie but Eddie is looking at him and he sighs, reaches his hand out to touch Richie’s shoulder.

“Beep beep, baby,” he says as soft as he can. Richie quiets. Still won’t look at him but he doesn’t pull away when Eddie slides his hand down to his wrist and pulls him to sit on the bed. “You don’t have to talk about it now but communication’s important.”

“I know,” Richie sighs, rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. They’ve been working on it since they were teenagers. Richie doesn’t say anything else for a while and they sit there, his head on Eddie’s shoulder. That’s never been comfortable. Richie’s taller and his body bends at weird angles but he won’t move. Eddie matches the rise and fall of their chests without really thinking about it. Waits. 

“It’s my father’s birthday tomorrow,” Richie says eventually. Eddie laces their fingers together. “I totally forgot and now I’ll have to call him or he’ll throw a fit and I’ll have to pretend like I care and he’ll have to pretend like he cares and just-” he sighs, straightens finally but keeps his hand in Eddie’s. “Communication is stupid.”

“It’s not,” Eddie says and then “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Richie answers, almost on instinct. Quieter, adds “Call me baby again?”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie complies and smiles when he sees Richie do so out of the corner of his eye. “Do you want to sleep and continue the stupid communication tomorrow?”

“Yes, please.”

They lay down together, Eddie’s lips against the hem of Richie’s T-shirt, Richie’s hand on Eddie’s hip. 

“Love you,” Richie reminds him.

“Love you,” Eddie echoes and waits for Richie to fall asleep before he does too.

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](https://richietoaster.tumblr.com/post/167813120595/beep-beep-richie-but-eddie-saying-beep-beep)
> 
> i used the penis facts in another fic like a year ago but my girlfriend told me them and i like them so whatever
> 
> title from she by ed sheeran and i Know its like a sad break up song but its soft and gentle and so are reddie so


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